Chapter 158: The Auction (II)
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Chapter 158: The Auction (II)
***** Still sick in bed, unfortunately. But, still strong enough to move my fingers on the keyboard (as long as my mind can hold).
Brief announcement...
Guys, the season finale of House Of Dragons came out today.
Having read Big George's Dragons Dance books, and concluded this first season, I can finally pass judgement.
I'll just say "Kudos to the Directors and the entire cast of the series!!!". Truly a masterpiece!"
Personal rating from 1 to 10 = 9.25!
I'll close here. Happy reading to all! *****
-----
POV: Leyton Hightower
Never Winter Bank.
Not a minute after a new bank was opened...
'How on earth did we get to this point?! How could this have happened? Right under our noses! ' Roared the Lord Protector of Oldtown inwardly as he joined in the thunderous applause that flooded the owner of a new bank...
The Known World had been turned upside down in less than a week.
First the Return of the Green Knights, then the advent of the Age of Damascus, and now the opening of a bloody Bank in the North... A Bank in the Kingdom that, until a decade ago, was known as the driest and harshest on the Continent.
What would happen tomorrow? Would the fourteen fires subside, and the people of Ancient Valyria rise from the ashes?
Leyton's eye could not help but turn towards his most bitter rival.
Chai Dug flashed him a wicked, sneering grin with amusement. Leyton gritted his teeth and kept his cool. His master, the former Lord Protector of the Andal Council, taught him that patience and calm were the first weapons and armour that every great man and scholar of the arcane had to master.
'Calm yourself, Leyton. Breathe and think with a clear mind... Lady Barbrey and Ser Duncan must have long since formed an alliance in preparation for this event. And if they chose to inaugurate the Bank immediately after Mott's demonstration, it means that-' Barbrey Mormont did him the courtesy of confirming his assumptions in a few moments.
"Thank you, thank you, my lords and ladies!... As previously anticipated, the Never Winter Bank will be the guarantor institution for all production and trade centres within the Silk Road! Therefore, the approval and functionality of this new trading city, Gauntlgrym and this Bank will depend on each other...
Gauntlgrym is the beating heart, Silk Road is the veins and arteries, and The Never Winter Bank is the blood. All three apparatuses need each other to live!
Indeed, I, Ser Helman Tallhart, Lord Eddard Stark and Lord Domeric Bolton have sealed a trade alliance by common consent! ... Before we kick off the last significant event of this evening, Ser Helman and Lord Eddard wish to make one final announcement!" The Master of Torrhen's Square stepped forward, ascending the steps to the same step as her associate.
"Thank you, Lady Barbrey... As previously announced, Lady Barbrey and I imagined, discussed, planned and finally worked on this dream for a long time...
We dreamed of a trading city free of the cultural divergences for which every kingdom, town or empire is characterised! A city of honest workers, respectful of the law of man and the gods, who would be able to share every day of the year, peace, security, art, knowledge, music, laughter, good food, fun and prosperity!" As soon as the first verse of the ballad ended, an artificial mechanism was triggered. The smooth stone walls behind the foursome opened to reveal a massive map of the Known World, rectangular in shape with longer sides measuring at least fifty feet, carved in stone and decorated with bright blue, green, red and brown markings... A true artistic, engineering and topographical masterpiece.
A silver demarcated line, indicating the new Silk Road, connected Barrowton and Torrhen's Square. Ser Helman continued, pointing to the map.
"That being said, I, Ser Helman of House Tallhart, here and today, proclaim that every inhabitant of the Known World, 'Every Person', whether from the northernmost corner beyond The Wall, from the southernmost known island, or even from the easternmost city or village beyond the Jade Sea, with a willing heart and seeking an honest fortune... will always be welcome here in the Silk Road!" A final roar of applause invested the charismatic and well-received Ser Helman, who, after waiting for the commotion to subside, went on to say:
"The only condition that the gates of the Silk Road will require to welcome you will be one... your trade and the coinage you make from it will be guarded and managed by the Never Winter Bank." Buzzes and soft chatter of surprise and dissent blazed through the room. Helman hammered the still-hot iron before it cooled.
"Those who show the most remarkable demonstrations of trust and invest their lifeblood in the veins of this city will be those who will benefit most from all that the Silk Road can offer you! Security, transport and guarantee in trade! Privileged trading posts, villas and secure dwellings! Education for your children! And medical care for you and all your family members!" Announced the Leader-in-Chief of the House of Tallhart, winning the approval of many knights and middle and junior merchants who were guests at the event.
As soon as the man finished his announcement, Eddard Stark and Domeric Bolton took their places alongside Barbrey Mormont and Helman Tallhart, who stepped aside to give the floor to the Lord Paramount of the North.
'There she is... Lady Barbrey wants to use the prerogative over Damascus Steel's sale rights to acquire cash!... The last event will surely be an auction for acquisition rights. Tzs! Dammit!
Carcosa will have no problem strutting all its wealth, and the Titan should just swallow a bitter pill of pride, but Oldtown...?! Fuck! We can't fall behind in the arms race nor stand so fast as the wealthiest House in Westeros!' Leyton reasoned impatiently, nearly bursting a vein from his temple.
Bloody Snow and the Frosty Queen are forcing House Hightower to uncover the cards. Leyton could easily have pulled even twenty, if not thirty, million gold coins from the Hightower's coffers without weakening the Andal Council's reserves too much. But how would the Hightowers have justified such availability of gold to the Crown and all the nobility of Westeros?
A short distance to his right, Leyton heard roaring, "Prince Doran! House Yronwood is ready to support Dorne by contributing 100,000 gold dragons!", "House Uller will invest 80,000 gold dragons, My Prince!", "And House Wyl will not be outdone, My Prince! We will contribute 150,000 gold dragons!", "Huh? You old charlatan, when has House Wyl ever managed to put together more than 2 pieces of silver in the castle made of dung and sand in which it resides?!" Roared Lord Anders Yronwood indignantly at the counterpart who had dared to outbid him first. "How dare you?! House Wyl is one of the oldest and most powerful Houses in Dorne! I dare you to repeat that!" Thundered Lord Wyl in reply.
Leyton turned around to witness similar phenomena throughout the hall... Gold numbers and promises were being fired from hundreds of different points, creating confusion comparable to that of the slave markets of Volantis... It was literally a race to the depository.
With only a few hours spent, a few drinks and refreshments, a brief demonstration and devious wordplay, the Never Winter Bank was amassing a gold capital so significant that not even the Iron Bank could have acquired it in less than decades of hard work...
Leyton's bewilderment and wavering thoughts were broken by his son Baelor.
"Father! Father, can you hear me? We must reach Lord Mace Tyrell as soon as possible! For the sake of our house, we cannot fall behind in this arms race!" Baelor even tugged at his groggy father's shoulders. Who instantly recovered from his moment of confusion.
"Yes, my son, well said..." Baelor's worried face faded, replacing it with a hopeful, confident one.
"Baelor, Garth, Humfrey! Gather to me, my sons! You too, Ser Jon." The inner circle of male members of House Hightower formed instantly.
And after a few seconds of careful pondering, the Lord Protector of Oldtown ordered, "House Beesbury, Bulwer, Costayne, Cuy, Mullendore, seek out our senior bannermen lords and spur them to cough up every ounce of gold they have. It will be up to them to collect their fair share from their landed bannermen. Do not return without first collecting the promise of at least one million gold dragoons!
If any of them should falter for lack of availability, tell them that House Hightower will lend the necessary shortfall gold without interest or obligation of repayment under five years. Garth... I want you to go and deal personally with Lord Beesbury. Don't let that stingy fox pity you. House Beesbury last winter made a fortune selling rivers of honey in the North." Garth nodded with his stone face, replying:
"Fear not, father, Lord Beesbury will contribute his due." Greysteel gave his word, and no one in Oldtown would ever doubt it... Leyton nodded proudly, finishing:
"We will meet back here ten minutes before the hour strikes. Now go, my sons, and do not fail me!"
"Yes, father!" replied Baelor.
"I will not fail you, father!" said young Humfrey.
"It shall be done, my lord!" Announced his most loyal knight before the quintet parted.
Almost all the Reach nobles were heading towards Lord Mace Tyrell's gathering.
Sure enough, the fat jester rose was enjoying it... Mace Tyrell loved the attention and flattery towards himself, and the idiot was probably itching to show off on such an important stage.
It would be the Lord Protector of the South who would represent the Reach during the auction...
The future stability of the Second Most Powerful and Wealthy World Organisation depended mainly on the actions to come from his idiot daughter's husband... These were miseries that commented on themselves.
'Tsz! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!!! Fucking bloody bastard from the North!!! Fucking Poison Widow!!! I swear to the gods, you two shall pay for such an affront!!!' It had been decades since Leyton last inwardly cursed in such a manner.
Oldtown had literally been surrounded and clubbed on all fronts by the filthy Northern barbarians... And what made Leyton more nervous and worried was that Bloody Snow offered the cornered Andals an apparent way out...
Oldtown had prospered in trade for thousands of years. Officially, the Hightower family was a rich and powerful house. The richest of the secondary houses in Westeros... but no richer than House Tyrell or House Lannister. Over the last millennium, House Hightower had secretly amassed in the bottomless coffers of the Highest Tower hundreds of millions of gold coins and magical treasures that could rival those of Carcosa. No one could know of Oldtown's actual financial holdings...
Without that last clause cunningly granted by Lady Barbrey, House Hightower could scarcely have offered two, at most, three million gold dragoons. A sum that would have already attracted unwanted attention... But now that the whole of the Reach could unite under a single banner of prosperity, Lord Leyton would have had room to manoeuvre to inject more funds under the table.
It would not have been difficult to disguise their massive contribution among the various bannermen of the Reach.
'If I can juggle it right, maybe we can even get to five million... By now, it doesn't matter if Braavos and Carcosa undermine us from the top two places, but Oldtown can't afford to wait any longer.
Our troops stationed in Sothoryos will need that steel as soon as possible, or we will lose ground and resources. The Reach "Must" win this auction at all costs, gaining sale rights to Damascus Steel before any other Westeros realm in the race. But I must also make sure that House Tyrell leaves a good chunk of the sale rights to Oldtown.' Leyton knew where, or instead with "Whom", he had to go to make this happen...
The lords of the Reach might as well have huddled and fought amongst themselves to lick the boots of The Fat Flower of Highgarden...
Now, the individual with whom the Protector of the High Council Andal needed to deal was the true High Marshal of The Reach and Warden of the South.
The True Bearing Thorn of the Golden Rose on a Greenfield... Lady Olenna Tyrell.
****
End Chapter.
****
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 158: The Auction (II)
***** Still sick in bed, unfortunately. But, still strong enough to move my fingers on the keyboard (as long as my mind can hold).
Brief announcement...
Guys, the season finale of House Of Dragons came out today.
Having read Big George's Dragons Dance books, and concluded this first season, I can finally pass judgement.
I'll just say "Kudos to the Directors and the entire cast of the series!!!". Truly a masterpiece!"
Personal rating from 1 to 10 = 9.25!
I'll close here. Happy reading to all! *****
-----
POV: Leyton Hightower
Never Winter Bank.
Not a minute after a new bank was opened...
'How on earth did we get to this point?! How could this have happened? Right under our noses! ' Roared the Lord Protector of Oldtown inwardly as he joined in the thunderous applause that flooded the owner of a new bank...
The Known World had been turned upside down in less than a week.
First the Return of the Green Knights, then the advent of the Age of Damascus, and now the opening of a bloody Bank in the North... A Bank in the Kingdom that, until a decade ago, was known as the driest and harshest on the Continent.
What would happen tomorrow? Would the fourteen fires subside, and the people of Ancient Valyria rise from the ashes?
Leyton's eye could not help but turn towards his most bitter rival.
Chai Dug flashed him a wicked, sneering grin with amusement. Leyton gritted his teeth and kept his cool. His master, the former Lord Protector of the Andal Council, taught him that patience and calm were the first weapons and armour that every great man and scholar of the arcane had to master.
'Calm yourself, Leyton. Breathe and think with a clear mind... Lady Barbrey and Ser Duncan must have long since formed an alliance in preparation for this event. And if they chose to inaugurate the Bank immediately after Mott's demonstration, it means that-' Barbrey Mormont did him the courtesy of confirming his assumptions in a few moments.
"Thank you, thank you, my lords and ladies!... As previously anticipated, the Never Winter Bank will be the guarantor institution for all production and trade centres within the Silk Road! Therefore, the approval and functionality of this new trading city, Gauntlgrym and this Bank will depend on each other...
Gauntlgrym is the beating heart, Silk Road is the veins and arteries, and The Never Winter Bank is the blood. All three apparatuses need each other to live!
Indeed, I, Ser Helman Tallhart, Lord Eddard Stark and Lord Domeric Bolton have sealed a trade alliance by common consent! ... Before we kick off the last significant event of this evening, Ser Helman and Lord Eddard wish to make one final announcement!" The Master of Torrhen's Square stepped forward, ascending the steps to the same step as her associate.
"Thank you, Lady Barbrey... As previously announced, Lady Barbrey and I imagined, discussed, planned and finally worked on this dream for a long time...
We dreamed of a trading city free of the cultural divergences for which every kingdom, town or empire is characterised! A city of honest workers, respectful of the law of man and the gods, who would be able to share every day of the year, peace, security, art, knowledge, music, laughter, good food, fun and prosperity!" As soon as the first verse of the ballad ended, an artificial mechanism was triggered. The smooth stone walls behind the foursome opened to reveal a massive map of the Known World, rectangular in shape with longer sides measuring at least fifty feet, carved in stone and decorated with bright blue, green, red and brown markings... A true artistic, engineering and topographical masterpiece.
A silver demarcated line, indicating the new Silk Road, connected Barrowton and Torrhen's Square. Ser Helman continued, pointing to the map.
"That being said, I, Ser Helman of House Tallhart, here and today, proclaim that every inhabitant of the Known World, 'Every Person', whether from the northernmost corner beyond The Wall, from the southernmost known island, or even from the easternmost city or village beyond the Jade Sea, with a willing heart and seeking an honest fortune... will always be welcome here in the Silk Road!" A final roar of applause invested the charismatic and well-received Ser Helman, who, after waiting for the commotion to subside, went on to say:
"The only condition that the gates of the Silk Road will require to welcome you will be one... your trade and the coinage you make from it will be guarded and managed by the Never Winter Bank." Buzzes and soft chatter of surprise and dissent blazed through the room. Helman hammered the still-hot iron before it cooled.
"Those who show the most remarkable demonstrations of trust and invest their lifeblood in the veins of this city will be those who will benefit most from all that the Silk Road can offer you! Security, transport and guarantee in trade! Privileged trading posts, villas and secure dwellings! Education for your children! And medical care for you and all your family members!" Announced the Leader-in-Chief of the House of Tallhart, winning the approval of many knights and middle and junior merchants who were guests at the event.
As soon as the man finished his announcement, Eddard Stark and Domeric Bolton took their places alongside Barbrey Mormont and Helman Tallhart, who stepped aside to give the floor to the Lord Paramount of the North.
'There she is... Lady Barbrey wants to use the prerogative over Damascus Steel's sale rights to acquire cash!... The last event will surely be an auction for acquisition rights. Tzs! Dammit!
Carcosa will have no problem strutting all its wealth, and the Titan should just swallow a bitter pill of pride, but Oldtown...?! Fuck! We can't fall behind in the arms race nor stand so fast as the wealthiest House in Westeros!' Leyton reasoned impatiently, nearly bursting a vein from his temple.
Bloody Snow and the Frosty Queen are forcing House Hightower to uncover the cards. Leyton could easily have pulled even twenty, if not thirty, million gold coins from the Hightower's coffers without weakening the Andal Council's reserves too much. But how would the Hightowers have justified such availability of gold to the Crown and all the nobility of Westeros?
A short distance to his right, Leyton heard roaring, "Prince Doran! House Yronwood is ready to support Dorne by contributing 100,000 gold dragons!", "House Uller will invest 80,000 gold dragons, My Prince!", "And House Wyl will not be outdone, My Prince! We will contribute 150,000 gold dragons!", "Huh? You old charlatan, when has House Wyl ever managed to put together more than 2 pieces of silver in the castle made of dung and sand in which it resides?!" Roared Lord Anders Yronwood indignantly at the counterpart who had dared to outbid him first. "How dare you?! House Wyl is one of the oldest and most powerful Houses in Dorne! I dare you to repeat that!" Thundered Lord Wyl in reply.
Leyton turned around to witness similar phenomena throughout the hall... Gold numbers and promises were being fired from hundreds of different points, creating confusion comparable to that of the slave markets of Volantis... It was literally a race to the depository.
With only a few hours spent, a few drinks and refreshments, a brief demonstration and devious wordplay, the Never Winter Bank was amassing a gold capital so significant that not even the Iron Bank could have acquired it in less than decades of hard work...
Leyton's bewilderment and wavering thoughts were broken by his son Baelor.
"Father! Father, can you hear me? We must reach Lord Mace Tyrell as soon as possible! For the sake of our house, we cannot fall behind in this arms race!" Baelor even tugged at his groggy father's shoulders. Who instantly recovered from his moment of confusion.
"Yes, my son, well said..." Baelor's worried face faded, replacing it with a hopeful, confident one.
"Baelor, Garth, Humfrey! Gather to me, my sons! You too, Ser Jon." The inner circle of male members of House Hightower formed instantly.
And after a few seconds of careful pondering, the Lord Protector of Oldtown ordered, "House Beesbury, Bulwer, Costayne, Cuy, Mullendore, seek out our senior bannermen lords and spur them to cough up every ounce of gold they have. It will be up to them to collect their fair share from their landed bannermen. Do not return without first collecting the promise of at least one million gold dragoons!
If any of them should falter for lack of availability, tell them that House Hightower will lend the necessary shortfall gold without interest or obligation of repayment under five years. Garth... I want you to go and deal personally with Lord Beesbury. Don't let that stingy fox pity you. House Beesbury last winter made a fortune selling rivers of honey in the North." Garth nodded with his stone face, replying:
"Fear not, father, Lord Beesbury will contribute his due." Greysteel gave his word, and no one in Oldtown would ever doubt it... Leyton nodded proudly, finishing:
"We will meet back here ten minutes before the hour strikes. Now go, my sons, and do not fail me!"
"Yes, father!" replied Baelor.
"I will not fail you, father!" said young Humfrey.
"It shall be done, my lord!" Announced his most loyal knight before the quintet parted.
Almost all the Reach nobles were heading towards Lord Mace Tyrell's gathering.
Sure enough, the fat jester rose was enjoying it... Mace Tyrell loved the attention and flattery towards himself, and the idiot was probably itching to show off on such an important stage.
It would be the Lord Protector of the South who would represent the Reach during the auction...
The future stability of the Second Most Powerful and Wealthy World Organisation depended mainly on the actions to come from his idiot daughter's husband... These were miseries that commented on themselves.
'Tsz! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!!! Fucking bloody bastard from the North!!! Fucking Poison Widow!!! I swear to the gods, you two shall pay for such an affront!!!' It had been decades since Leyton last inwardly cursed in such a manner.
Oldtown had literally been surrounded and clubbed on all fronts by the filthy Northern barbarians... And what made Leyton more nervous and worried was that Bloody Snow offered the cornered Andals an apparent way out...
Oldtown had prospered in trade for thousands of years. Officially, the Hightower family was a rich and powerful house. The richest of the secondary houses in Westeros... but no richer than House Tyrell or House Lannister. Over the last millennium, House Hightower had secretly amassed in the bottomless coffers of the Highest Tower hundreds of millions of gold coins and magical treasures that could rival those of Carcosa. No one could know of Oldtown's actual financial holdings...
Without that last clause cunningly granted by Lady Barbrey, House Hightower could scarcely have offered two, at most, three million gold dragoons. A sum that would have already attracted unwanted attention... But now that the whole of the Reach could unite under a single banner of prosperity, Lord Leyton would have had room to manoeuvre to inject more funds under the table.
It would not have been difficult to disguise their massive contribution among the various bannermen of the Reach.
'If I can juggle it right, maybe we can even get to five million... By now, it doesn't matter if Braavos and Carcosa undermine us from the top two places, but Oldtown can't afford to wait any longer.
Our troops stationed in Sothoryos will need that steel as soon as possible, or we will lose ground and resources. The Reach "Must" win this auction at all costs, gaining sale rights to Damascus Steel before any other Westeros realm in the race. But I must also make sure that House Tyrell leaves a good chunk of the sale rights to Oldtown.' Leyton knew where, or instead with "Whom", he had to go to make this happen...
The lords of the Reach might as well have huddled and fought amongst themselves to lick the boots of The Fat Flower of Highgarden...
Now, the individual with whom the Protector of the High Council Andal needed to deal was the true High Marshal of The Reach and Warden of the South.
The True Bearing Thorn of the Golden Rose on a Greenfield... Lady Olenna Tyrell.
****
End Chapter.
****
Chapter 158: The Auction II***** Still sick in bed, unfortunately. But, still strong enough to move my fingers on the keyboard as long as my mind can hold. Brief announcement... Guys, the season finale of House Of Dragons came out today. Having read Big George's Dragons Dance books, and concluded this first season, I can finally pass judgement. I'll just say "Kudos to the Directors and the entire cast of the series!!!". Truly a masterpiece!" Personal rating from 1 to 10 = 9.25! I'll close here. Happy reading to all! ***** ----- POV: Leyton Hightower Never Winter Bank. Not a minute after a new bank was opened... 'How on earth did we get to this point?! How could this have happened? Right under our noses! ' Roared the Lord Protector of Oldtown inwardly as he joined in the thunderous applause that flooded the owner of a new bank... The Known World had been turned upside down in less than a week. First the Return of the Green Knights, then the advent of the Age of Damascus, and now the opening of a bloody Bank in the North... A Bank in the Kingdom that, until a decade ago, was known as the driest and harshest on the Continent. What would happen tomorrow? Would the fourteen fires subside, and the people of Ancient Valyria rise from the ashes? Leyton's eye could not help but turn towards his most bitter rival. Chai Dug flashed him a wicked, sneering grin with amusement. Leyton gritted his teeth and kept his cool. His master, the former Lord Protector of the Andal Council, taught him that patience and calm were the first weapons and armour that every great man and scholar of the arcane had to master. 'Calm yourself, Leyton. Breathe and think with a clear mind... Lady Barbrey and Ser Duncan must have long since formed an alliance in preparation for this event. And if they chose to inaugurate the Bank immediately after Mott's demonstration, it means that-' Barbrey Mormont did him the courtesy of confirming his assumptions in a few moments. "Thank you, thank you, my lords and ladies!... As previously anticipated, the Never Winter Bank will be the guarantor institution for all production and trade centres within the Silk Road! Therefore, the approval and functionality of this new trading city, Gauntlgrym and this Bank will depend on each other... Gauntlgrym is the beating heart, Silk Road is the veins and arteries, and The Never Winter Bank is the blood. All three apparatuses need each other to live! Indeed, I, Ser Helman Tallhart, Lord Eddard Stark and Lord Domeric Bolton have sealed a trade alliance by common consent! ... Before we kick off the last significant event of this evening, Ser Helman and Lord Eddard wish to make one final announcement!" The Master of Torrhen's Square stepped forward, ascending the steps to the same step as her associate. "Thank you, Lady Barbrey... As previously announced, Lady Barbrey and I imagined, discussed, planned and finally worked on this dream for a long time... We dreamed of a trading city free of the cultural divergences for which every kingdom, town or empire is characterised! A city of honest workers, respectful of the law of man and the gods, who would be able to share every day of the year, peace, security, art, knowledge, music, laughter, good food, fun and prosperity!" As soon as the first verse of the ballad ended, an artificial mechanism was triggered. The smooth stone walls behind the foursome opened to reveal a massive map of the Known World, rectangular in shape with longer sides measuring at least fifty feet, carved in stone and decorated with bright blue, green, red and brown markings... A true artistic, engineering and topographical masterpiece. A silver demarcated line, indicating the new Silk Road, connected Barrowton and Torrhen's Square. Ser Helman continued, pointing to the map. "That being said, I, Ser Helman of House Tallhart, here and today, proclaim that every inhabitant of the Known World, 'Every Person', whether from the northernmost corner beyond The Wall, from the southernmost known island, or even from the easternmost city or village beyond the Jade Sea, with a willing heart and seeking an honest fortune... will always be welcome here in the Silk Road!" A final roar of applause invested the charismatic and well-received Ser Helman, who, after waiting for the commotion to subside, went on to say: "The only condition that the gates of the Silk Road will require to welcome you will be one... your trade and the coinage you make from it will be guarded and managed by the Never Winter Bank." Buzzes and soft chatter of surprise and dissent blazed through the room. Helman hammered the still-hot iron before it cooled. "Those who show the most remarkable demonstrations of trust and invest their lifeblood in the veins of this city will be those who will benefit most from all that the Silk Road can offer you! Security, transport and guarantee in trade! Privileged trading posts, villas and secure dwellings! Education for your children! And medical care for you and all your family members!" Announced the Leader-in-Chief of the House of Tallhart, winning the approval of many knights and middle and junior merchants who were guests at the event. As soon as the man finished his announcement, Eddard Stark and Domeric Bolton took their places alongside Barbrey Mormont and Helman Tallhart, who stepped aside to give the floor to the Lord Paramount of the North. 'There she is... Lady Barbrey wants to use the prerogative over Damascus Steel's sale rights to acquire cash!... The last event will surely be an auction for acquisition rights. Tzs! Dammit! Carcosa will have no problem strutting all its wealth, and the Titan should just swallow a bitter pill of pride, but Oldtown...?! Fuck! We can't fall behind in the arms race nor stand so fast as the wealthiest House in Westeros!' Leyton reasoned impatiently, nearly bursting a vein from his temple. Bloody Snow and the Frosty Queen are forcing House Hightower to uncover the cards. Leyton could easily have pulled even twenty, if not thirty, million gold coins from the Hightower's coffers without weakening the Andal Council's reserves too much. But how would the Hightowers have justified such availability of gold to the Crown and all the nobility of Westeros? A short distance to his right, Leyton heard roaring, "Prince Doran! House Yronwood is ready to support Dorne by contributing 100,000 gold dragons!", "House Uller will invest 80,000 gold dragons, My Prince!", "And House Wyl will not be outdone, My Prince! We will contribute 150,000 gold dragons!", "Huh? You old charlatan, when has House Wyl ever managed to put together more than 2 pieces of silver in the castle made of dung and sand in which it resides?!" Roared Lord Anders Yronwood indignantly at the counterpart who had dared to outbid him first. "How dare you?! House Wyl is one of the oldest and most powerful Houses in Dorne! I dare you to repeat that!" Thundered Lord Wyl in reply. Leyton turned around to witness similar phenomena throughout the hall... Gold numbers and promises were being fired from hundreds of different points, creating confusion comparable to that of the slave markets of Volantis... It was literally a race to the depository. With only a few hours spent, a few drinks and refreshments, a brief demonstration and devious wordplay, the Never Winter Bank was amassing a gold capital so significant that not even the Iron Bank could have acquired it in less than decades of hard work... Leyton's bewilderment and wavering thoughts were broken by his son Baelor. "Father! Father, can you hear me? We must reach Lord Mace Tyrell as soon as possible! For the sake of our house, we cannot fall behind in this arms race!" Baelor even tugged at his groggy father's shoulders. Who instantly recovered from his moment of confusion. "Yes, my son, well said..." Baelor's worried face faded, replacing it with a hopeful, confident one. "Baelor, Garth, Humfrey! Gather to me, my sons! You too, Ser Jon." The inner circle of male members of House Hightower formed instantly. And after a few seconds of careful pondering, the Lord Protector of Oldtown ordered, "House Beesbury, Bulwer, Costayne, Cuy, Mullendore, seek out our senior bannermen lords and spur them to cough up every ounce of gold they have. It will be up to them to collect their fair share from their landed bannermen. Do not return without first collecting the promise of at least one million gold dragoons! If any of them should falter for lack of availability, tell them that House Hightower will lend the necessary shortfall gold without interest or obligation of repayment under five years. Garth... I want you to go and deal personally with Lord Beesbury. Don't let that stingy fox pity you. House Beesbury last winter made a fortune selling rivers of honey in the North." Garth nodded with his stone face, replying: "Fear not, father, Lord Beesbury will contribute his due." Greysteel gave his word, and no one in Oldtown would ever doubt it... Leyton nodded proudly, finishing: "We will meet back here ten minutes before the hour strikes. Now go, my sons, and do not fail me!" "Yes, father!" replied Baelor. "I will not fail you, father!" said young Humfrey. "It shall be done, my lord!" Announced his most loyal knight before the quintet parted. Almost all the Reach nobles were heading towards Lord Mace Tyrell's gathering. Sure enough, the fat jester rose was enjoying it... Mace Tyrell loved the attention and flattery towards himself, and the idiot was probably itching to show off on such an important stage. It would be the Lord Protector of the South who would represent the Reach during the auction... The future stability of the Second Most Powerful and Wealthy World Organisation depended mainly on the actions to come from his idiot daughter's husband... These were miseries that commented on themselves. 'Tsz! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! FUCK!!! Fucking bloody bastard from the North!!! Fucking Poison Widow!!! I swear to the gods, you two shall pay for such an affront!!!' It had been decades since Leyton last inwardly cursed in such a manner. Oldtown had literally been surrounded and clubbed on all fronts by the filthy Northern barbarians... And what made Leyton more nervous and worried was that Bloody Snow offered the cornered Andals an apparent way out... Oldtown had prospered in trade for thousands of years. Officially, the Hightower family was a rich and powerful house. The richest of the secondary houses in Westeros... but no richer than House Tyrell or House Lannister. Over the last millennium, House Hightower had secretly amassed in the bottomless coffers of the Highest Tower hundreds of millions of gold coins and magical treasures that could rival those of Carcosa. No one could know of Oldtown's actual financial holdings... Without that last clause cunningly granted by Lady Barbrey, House Hightower could scarcely have offered two, at most, three million gold dragoons. A sum that would have already attracted unwanted attention... But now that the whole of the Reach could unite under a single banner of prosperity, Lord Leyton would have had room to manoeuvre to inject more funds under the table. It would not have been difficult to disguise their massive contribution among the various bannermen of the Reach. 'If I can juggle it right, maybe we can even get to five million... By now, it doesn't matter if Braavos and Carcosa undermine us from the top two places, but Oldtown can't afford to wait any longer. Our troops stationed in Sothoryos will need that steel as soon as possible, or we will lose ground and resources. The Reach "Must" win this auction at all costs, gaining sale rights to Damascus Steel before any other Westeros realm in the race. But I must also make sure that House Tyrell leaves a good chunk of the sale rights to Oldtown.' Leyton knew where, or instead with "Whom", he had to go to make this happen... The lords of the Reach might as well have huddled and fought amongst themselves to lick the boots of The Fat Flower of Highgarden... Now, the individual with whom the Protector of the High Council Andal needed to deal was the true High Marshal of The Reach and Warden of the South. The True Bearing Thorn of the Golden Rose on a Greenfield... Lady Olenna Tyrell. **** End Chapter. ****
